The end of the thing that was

I think what you're looking for was me.
I think what I'm looking for was you.

(I worry we'll never find it)

I think you were a cunt.
I think I was too critical.
I think you could learn to not hear criticism where none exists.
I think I could learn to let things go.
And accept.

I think you weren't as bad as I thought in many ways.
I've realised you were much worse that I suspected in others.

I've been shown the things I needed. The things I kept asking for.
I've discovered the things I craved, in other people.
I've realised what I felt was missing really was.
I've realised what I took for granted deserved more acknowledgement.
I've realised just how extraordinary you could be.
But also how selfish. How cruel.

I wonder if I'll ever find the thing we had.

Maybe there are other ways to love.

That may lack the things ours didn't.
But have the things we missed.

Or I'll spend my life chasing after the perfection, without the pain.

And maybe one day settle for peace.

And be happy.

Without you.